


Haunted

by Flittermouse



Category: Batman - All Media Types, DCU, The Conjuring (2013), The Conjuring 2
Genre: Animal Abuse, Animal Death, Background Relationships, Blood, Body Horror, F/M, Hauntings, Horror, I don't think I'm killing anyone else, If You Squint - Freeform, M/M, Multi, Nightmares, Permanent Injury, Possession, Spoilers, Spoilers for The Conjuring 2, The only dead animal is dead before it ever shows up, Violence, abuse of Arabian Fairytales, basically a Conjuring story in a Batfam setting, but that could always change, established relationships - Freeform, not named animals, not smut, probably no sex, rating may go up later, references to mental illness, tagged major character death bc of flashbacks to Jason's death
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-06-12
Updated: 2016-06-12
Packaged: 2018-07-14 14:08:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 987
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7174973
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Flittermouse/pseuds/Flittermouse
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It started with a nightmare. Or, well; something did. </p><p>It had <strong><em>all</em></strong> started with a mother too good to be true, a clown with a glasgow, a crowbar, and a bomb.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Haunted

**Author's Note:**

> Notes/TW at the end.

_His breath caught in his throat, lungs burning and his head screaming ‘no air, noair- **NO AIR!** ’_

_The explosion had broken some already cracked ribs, his vision swimming; clouded by pain, by the heat and smoke. He could hear someone screaming, and it couldn’t be him because he couldn’t breathe. A woman’s voice._  
__Sheila. It had to be.  
_He forced himself off the ground, muscles pulling slowly as he braced himself up on his elbows, gasping and tasting the hot ash that filled the air. There was a piece of concrete on his left leg, pinning it to the ground, it shifted when he moved; dragging a slow wash of agony through him. He cried out, wasting precious oxygen as he gasped and panted, his ribs feeling like hot knives in his chest._  
_The noise came again, low and raspy from smoke, piercing into his aching skull._  
_He forced his eyes open, not entirely sure at what point they had closed, but aware that some sort of time most have passed. He caught sight of the red fluid pooling between his hands, in the space where his head had been resting a few minutes before. His mouth was filled with hot iron. A thick drop of it slid across his bottom lip, stretching until it was too heavy to cling to the bruised skin, and then splashing silently into the growing puddle in front of him. He stared at it, uncomprehending, half convinced that his eyes were playing tricks on him._  
_His fingers were sticky, spread wide and crooked on the hot ground, seeped in… Blood. Hot, fresh blood. It smeared across the baking ground, reminding him intimately of the murder scenes that he’d seen, victims pale and lifeless, the walls covered in tiny red flecks, the floor soaked in it._

_It…_

_It was his blood._

_He tried to swallow, his throat clicking dryly and burning from the hot air, sending a shooting reminder of the rest of the pain, seeming to reignite it twofold.  
The scream startled him, jerking his eyes away from the sight. To his warped hearing, the screech didn’t even sound human. He dragged in another shallow, wet breath, pulling his head up and turning to look in the direction that the sound was coming from. Everywhere was fire, smoke; dancing and snapping on the walls, clawing at the air. _

_Then he saw it. Saw them._

_It was right in his peripheral, and slowly, slowly, he managed to drag his head around enough to see it. His breath caught in his burned throat, bloodshot eyes widening in horror._

_That was when he knew. He knew, without a shadow of a doubt, that he was going to die._

~

Jason bolted upright, letting out a hoarse cry as he curled over his knees, hands clutching at his neck as he drew in harsh, desperate breaths, telling himself that he could breath, he was fine, despite what it felt like.  
“Jason?” gentle hands rubbed slowly along his bare back “baby, are you okay?” He shook his head, pulling away and getting to his feet, hands shaking as he stumbled over to the bathroom. 

He retched, trying to get the bile and phantom smoke out of his mouth. “Hey, hey” he heard Dick come in behind him, “Jay…” he sighed, brushing the hair out of Jason’s face, pausing when the other man shook him off.  
Jason heard Dick’s footsteps retreating and blew out a shaky breath. His skin was covered in a cold sweat, tremors living in his muscles as he curled over, his stomach twisting in tune with the flickering images behind his eyes. He wasn’t quite panicking, but the fear lingered, forming a tight ball in his chest. His thoughts were filled with the heavy weight of dread. 

He jerked when something cold draped across the back of his neck, hand snapping up to grip at what he quickly realized was a damp cloth. “Shh, it’s alright.” Dick caught Jason’s gaze when he looked up at the sound of his voice, studying somewhat wild blue-green eyes. He crouched down, offering a glass of ice water as an apology for startling him.  
Jason shuddered, glancing away, then slowly reached out to take the cup, taking a small sip to rinse his mouth out with. The ice helped to dampen the memory of burning walls, washing away some of the scratchy heat from his throat. “Better?” Dick asked quietly, keeping a respectful distance as Jason drank the rest of the water before setting the glass off to the side. “…Yeah, sure.” Jason rasped, clearing his throat a second later.  
“Want to talk about it?” Hesitantly, Dick reached out, carefully resting his hand on top of Jason’s, relaxing a bit when the other didn’t move away that time, and twining their fingers together. Jason shook his head, unsure what he would even say “…Joker?” Dick asked, his eyes soft and understanding. 

Jason hesitated, thought of acid green eyes and pain that felt like he was being ripped apart from the inside out.  
“Yeah… I guess so.” He muttered, running his free hand over his face. 

He pushed himself up, using the hand Dick had in his to help the other up as well “let’s just… try to get some sleep.” Jason said, and Dick let him lead them back to the rumpled sheets, pretending that he couldn’t see the haunted look in Jason’s eyes. He’d talk about it when he was ready, Dick wasn’t going to push him. Not right then, at least.

They curled up, Jason resting his head on Dick’s chest, burying his face against the warm skin and trying to forget that anything had happened. Dick carefully pulled the sheets up over them, wrapping his arms around Jason and hoping that it would be enough to keep away any other memories that felt the need to push their way into the forefront of their minds.

**Author's Note:**

> In this prologue, there's nightmares, copious amounts of blood, and brief mentions of vomiting.


End file.
